GIFT   OF 


A.   M.   Robertson 

San    Francisco 
1901 


if 


Copyright    1901 
by  A.  M.  Robertson 


Thff  Hurdock.  Press 
;V<  $an,' Francisco 


308707 


•f 


Verses    by    MABEL    HYDE 


Pictures    by    HELEN   HYDE 


\ 


CO NT TNT 5 


New  Year 

January  Second 

The  Land  of  Approximate  Time 

Japanese  Stairs 

Sonnet 

A  Nippon  Dog 

An  Eclipse 

The  Shishi 

Wooden  Clogs 

The  Forward  Plum 

You  Might  Suppose,  If  You  Didn't  Know 

Tokyo 

Japanese  Trees 

A  Thumping.  Clumping  on  the  Street 

Buddhist  Temples 

Would  You  Like  to  be  a  Coolie  ? 

Would  You  Like  to  be  a  Farmer? 

Riding  in  a  Sampan 

The  Lay  of  the  Doguya 

The  Friends  of  Daikoku 

The  Little  Geisha 

The  Imperial  Mail 

Would  You? 

The  Korogi  Sings,  for  the  Autumn  has  Come 

The  Coquette 


NEW   YEAR 

When  the  New  Year  comes  to  town 
All  the  world  is  upside  down, 
All  the  world  is  jolly; 
Dusters  fly  in  fingers  fleet, 
Minstrels  wander  up  the  street, 
O'er  and  o'er  their  song  repeat, 
With  dragon-dance  and  folly. 

Rice-straw  fringes  flutter  high, 
Gohei  white  with  seaweed  nigh, 
While  crawfish  red  are  bending; 
Snowy  blooms  on  plum-trees  view. 
All  the  street  is  green  bamboo, 
Sturdy  little  pine-trees,  too, 
Which  distant  groves  are  sending. 


All  the  gods  have  joined  the  fun. 

The  god  of  wealth  is  there  for  one 

And  Ebis.  who 's '  been  %hing. 

The  Treasure -ship  has  brought  them  in. 

That  each  the  Precious  Things  may  win 

And  add  their  voices  to  the  din, 

New  Year's  luck  a-wishing 


'    9 


V 


JANUARY  SECOND 

Kara-kong,  kara! 
Of  smoothly  lacquered  clogs, 
Rustling  silks  and  gay  brocades, 
They  're  wearing  their  best  togs. 

Click,  click,  click! 

It  patters  everywhere, 

As  feathered  little  shuttlecocks 

Fly  into  the  air. 

Whizz,  buzz,  whirr 

Great  birds  of  soaring  kites 

They  dart  on  high  and  fill  the  sky 

Till  shine  the  twinkling  lights. 

Hui-sha.  hui! 

Of  coolies  on  parade, 

In  picture  coats  and  dragging  floats 

Of  sake  not  afraid. 

Ha,  ha,  hai 

The  town  's  gone  mad; 

It 's  lost  its  sense,  it  is  immense; 

Let 's  all  be  glad! 


THE  LAND  OF  APPROXIMATE  TIME 


Here  's  to  the  Land  of  Approximate  Time ! 

Where  nerves  are  a  factor  unknown, 
Where  acting  as  balm  are  manners  calm, 

And  seeds  of  sweet  patience  are  sown. 

Where  it  is  very   ill-bred  to  go  straight  to  the  point. 

Where  one  bargains  at  leisure  all  day, 
Where  with  method  unique"  at  once"  means  a  week. 

In  the  cool,  easy  Japanese  way. 

Where    every   clock    runs  as  it  happens  to  please, 
And  they  never  agree  on  their  strikes; 

Where  even  the  sun  otten  joins  in  the  fun, 
And  rises  whenever  he  likes. 

Then  here  's  to  the  Land  of  Approximate  Time, 

The  Land  of  the  Leisurely  Bow, 
Where  the  overcharged  West  may  learn  how  to  rest, 

The  Land  of  Inconsequent  Now! 


XI 


JAPANESE   STAIRS 

I  wish  that  I  had  reversible  feet, 

So,  without  after  repairs, 
I  could  descend  in  a  manner  neat 

These  precipitous  Japanese  stairs! 


12 


SONNET 


O  matting!  fetish  of  .this  Eastern  land, 

Thou  surface  unprofaned  by  shoe  or  heel, 
Whose  spotless  plane  is  never  marred  by  sand, 

Who  degradations  of  no  load  dost  feel 
As  do  base  carpets  of  the  'Western  clime 

From  heavy-footed  tables,  shelves,  and  chairs. 
Upon  whose  backs  are  poised  ^with  mien  sublime 

All  dust-collecting  tricks  and  ancient  wares. — 
O  thou  whose  undisturbed  broad  expanse 

Knoweth  but  tread  of  snowy  tabied  feet. 
Whose  softly  yielding  self  dost  grace  enhance 

Of  prostrate  forms  and  heads  bent  low  to  greet. 
Lest  thou  too  wouldst  to  common  uses  deign. 
Ne'er  leave  J'apan.  where  thou  supreme  dost  reign 


A   NIPPON  DOG 

A  Nippon  dog  is  a  thing  to  see 
He  shows  a  matchless  pedigree 
Of  dachs  a-nd  poodle.  wolT  and  setter. 
Fox  and  hound,  and  nothing  better. 
A  misfit,  remnant  thing  is  he. 
This  beast  of  varied  pedigree! 


I"  is  easy  to  see  for  you  and  for  me 
the  search  of  the  boy  has  begun 
through  the  rain  they  >e  looking  in  vain 
i  a  partial  eclipse  of  the  son! 


THE    SHISHi 

At  the  gates  of  all  the  temples, 
Shishi  grim  are  ever  seen; 

Coming  from  the  realm  of  fable. 
Dog  and  lion  stand  between. 

There  the  male,  with  mien  terfffic, 
Spends^  his  time  in  long  harangue 

Knowing  well  his  sex's  privilege 
In  the  land  from  which  he  sprang 

But  the  female  sits  in  silence. 
Feels  her  dignity  beneath. 

To  her  lord  to  make  just  answer, 
\ 

Though  she  often  grits  her  teeth 

Shishi  guarding  all  the  temples, 
When  al  times  my  soul  is  blue, 

All  I  need  to  mend  my  humor 
Is  to.  stand  and  gaze  at  you ! 


16 


I  wish  on  wooden  clogs  to  walk, 
Above  the  mud  to  proudly  stalk. 

i> 

And  all  the  deepest  puddles  find 
Where  high  and  dry  I  should  'nt  mind 


But  here  I  have  to  plod  and  sqush 
Through  sucking  bogs  and  sticky  mush 
And  far  too  soon  my  home  must  seek 
Because  my  rubbers  spring  a  leak! 


"JS3L 


THE    FORWARD    PLUM 


The'  Plum  declared  the  time  had  come 
To  fill  the  world  with  Spring; 

But  the  timid  little  Cherry  would  n't 
Think  of  such  a  thing! 

The  Plum-bloom  boldly  ventured  out,— 
The  ground  was  white  with  snow ; 

In  tones  of  wrath  she  bade  the  Sun 
Command  the  Snow  to  go. 

The  Sun  hurled  down  his  ptercing  darts 
The  Snow  wept  tears  of  grief. 

Until  she  called  the  cold  Night  Wind 
To  come  to  her  relief. 


Full  <many  days  and  nights  they  fought, 
The  Moon  for  judge  they  chose. — 

The  saucy  Plum  refused  to  move. 
Though  sore  were  nipped  her  toes.' 


Then  thick  and  fast  the  angry  Sun 

Aimed  arrows  at  the  spot. 
Until  one  bright  victorious  eve 

Behold,  the  Snow  was  not! 

The  Moon,  to  be  impartial. 

Turned  half  her  garments  black; 
But  the  Ptum  danced  wildly  on  her  twigs 

And  cried.  "The  Spring  is  back!" 


S 


T 
°X 


YOU   MIGHT   SUPPOSE.   IF   YOU  DIDN'T  KNOW 

You  might  suppose,  if  you  did  n't  know, 
There  were  no  queer  things  in  Tokyo: 
That  when  't  was  time  the  train  would  go;  • 
That  railroad  clocks  were  never  slow, 
That  city  lights  on  the  moats  would  glow 
And  mark  your  way  in  a  blinking  row, 
And  paper  lanterns  you  need  n't  show, — 
These  things  you  'd  suppose,  if  you  did  n't  know. 

You  might  suppose,  if  you  did  n't  know, 
When  Winter  comes  and  the  cold  winds  blow, 
No  gaping  cracks  your  waits  would  show; 
That  water  in  pipes  to  your  doors'  would  flow, 
And  not  be  hauled  from  the  well  below; 
That  servants  never  would  answer  "No!" 
And  with  their  ideas  your  plans  o'erthrow. — 
You  might  suppose,  if  you  didn't  know. 


You  might  suppose,  if  you  did  n't  know, 
When  you  wait  the  streets  and  shopping  go 
No  joggling  crowd  would  gather  and  grow. 
Or  smoke  in  your  face,  or  step  on  your  toe. 
Nor  naughty  boys,  in  manner  low, 
Bad  names  would  call,  or  mud-pies  throw, 
And  you  wouldn't  feel  like  a 'circus  ;voh, 
Perchance  you  'd  suppose,  if  you  did  n't  know. 

You  might  suppose,  if  you  did  n't  know. 

That  this  Eastern  world  was  full  of  woe. 

And  that  ail  these  things  "would-'"  plague  you  so,— 

Yes.  of  course."* you'd   suppose,  if  you  didn't   know. 


21 


Little  low  houses  with  roofs  of  gray  tiles. 

Wandering  windings  of  highways  so  small 
keading  one  onward  o'er  miles  and  o'er  miles 

Through   by-ways  and   alleys,  o'er   bridges 'and  all. 
Sinuous,  gleaming,  are  blue  waterways 

Where  flat,  heavy  junks  ever  glidingly  go, 
Where  the '  great-hatted   fishermen  spend  all  their  days, 

Where  the  boatmen  are  calling, — and  that's  Tokyo. 

Park's  of  majestical.  tall  spreading  trees 

Where  red  temples  gleam  and  where  dead  princes  rest, 
Gardens  as  beautiful. even  as  these 

Gazing  at  Fuji  away  in  the  west. 
Dainty,  wee  figures  with  shining  black  hair, 

Sweet  voices'  murmur  with  gay  laughter  low, 
Butterfly  babies  who  flit  here  and  there, 

A  soft,  silken  rustle.— and  that 's  Tokyo. 


The  yellow  of  sunset  is  tinting  the  sky, 

The  trees  silhouetted  in  lines  black  and  bold, 
No  waves  and  no  ripples  on  twilight  moats  lie, 

A  faint  mist  envelops  the  gray  ramparts  old. 
The  call  of  the  vender,  the  mother's  low  croons, 

The  clapper-man's  sticks  as  he  walks  to  and  fro, 
A  pate  light  diffusing  the  round  paper  moons, 

Then  the  silence  of  midnight,— and  that's  Tokyo! 


JAPANESE    TREES 

I  can  paint  great  umbrellas  and  thatches  and  moats 
And  bare-footed  coolies  in  yellow  rain-coats.' 
Or  wee  toddling  tots  in  gay  gowns,  if  you  please. 
But  the  things  that  distract  me  are  Japanese  trees1 

For  they  fling  out  their  limbs  in  contortions  terrific. 

Or  wave  benedictions  in  style  beatific ;" 

They  mince  and  they  caper,  they  dance  and  they  prance. 

While  gnarled,  snaky  rootlets  their  weirdness  enhance. 

Or  a  saucy  one-footer,  aping  old  age, 
Brings  forth  golden  fruitlings  in  manner  most  sage. 
Or  a  gray  elfish  trunk  with  a  nondescript  line 
needled  endeavor  pretends  it 's  a  pine 

me  back  home  to  the  land  of  my  birth, 

js  grow  with  dignity  out  of  the  earth, 
>shrub  is  a  shrub,  and  a  tree  is  a  tree, 
grotesque  caprices  are  what  distract  me! 


A    THUMPING,    CLUMPING    ON    THE    STREET 

If  perchance  on  the  street  you  see  something  new, 
With  attention  discreet  you  look  it  all  through, 
A  clumpity- clump  you  will  speedily  hear 
As  the  wooden  clogs  gather  from  far  and  from  near. 

Or  if  to  the  station  you  go  for  the  train. 

You  may  raise  your  voice  loudly,  but  talking  is  vain 

There  's  a  clatter  most   deafening  of  shuffling  and  scraping. 

As  armies  of  clogs  from  the  gates  are  escaping 

But  once  in  the  house  you  may  do  as  you  please, 

You  may  keep  on  your  boots  while  those  things  Japanese 

With  their  clumpity- thumpity-clickety- clack 

Bide  without /m  disgrace  till  their  owners  come  back. 


BUDDHIST    TEMPLES 

Do  you  think  a  Buddhist  temple 

Is  a  place  to  take  a  child, 
Where  those  beings  most  ferocious 

Glare  about  "with  faces  wild ; 
Where  two  fearsome  giant  Ni-O, 

Crimson  red,  beside  the  gate, 
Airy  demons  ever  threaten 

To  beware  their  bloody  hate? 

Where  a  Fudo  dealing  justice 

Sends  the  wicked  down  below 
Where  the  horrid  imps  are  waiting 

And  a  fiendish  Emma  O, 
Where  a  Kwannon,  thousand  handed 

Scatters  mercies  into  space 
And  Daikoku  apoplectic 

Guards  his  wealth  with  mumpy  face 


Where  a  Thunder  -g£d  is  whirling 

With  his  drums  in  circling  forms.J 
And  the  God  of  Winds  is  bursting 

As  he  blows  the  earth's  great  storms . 
Where  the   Dragon's  claws  are  clutching. 

And  his  jaws  are  open  wide 
As  his  scaly  coils  he  's  hurling 

Boldly  down  the  temple  side  ? 

All  these  creatures  have  their  uses. 

All  our  evil  deeds  they'  view- 
Naughty  girls  and  boys  are  teaching 

What  they  daily  should  n't  do: 
Yet  Amida  on  his  lotus 

Preaches  peace  with  features  mild, 


WOULD    YOU    LIKE    TO    BE    A    COOLIE? 

Would  you  like  to  be  a  coolie. 

And  wear  a  flapping  coat. 
With  a  label  like  an  ace  upon  your  back? 

Would  you  wear  a  mushroom  hat. 

Skinny  tights  to  balance  that. 
With  sandals  on  your  feet  so  bare  and  black? 

Would  you  tike  to  be  a  coolie. 

And  play  you  were  a  horse. 
And  haul  impatient  tourists  to  and  fro? 

For  a  few  behaggJed  cents. 

Great  lumbering  copper  pence. 
And  grumblings  loud  and  deep  when  you  were  slow? 


28 


Would  you  like  to  be  a  coolie, 

And  carry  granite  rocks 
In  a  little  wicker  basket  on  a  pole? 

With  a  towel  round  your  head, 

Would  you  weed  the  road  instead, 
The  moss  from  off  the  stones  would  you  cajole  ? 

Would  you  like  to  be  a  coolie, 

Where  hurry  there  is  none, 
Where  there  's  ever  time  to  smoke  and  drink  your  tea, 

Where  your  pay  is  by  the  load, 

Where  your  conscience  does  not  goad, 
A  quiet  minded  coolie  would  you  be? 

Would  you  like  to  be  a  coolie, 

And  have  a  paper  house. 
And  warm  your  fingers  at  a  charcoal  pan, 

And  live  on  ancient  fish,— 

A  slimy,  greenish  dish,— 
Would  you  like  to  be  a  coolie  in  Japan? 


WOULD    YOU    LIKE    TO    BE   A    FARMER? 

Would  you  like  to  be  a  farmer 

And  wade  in  liquid  mud 
With  the  slippery  rice -field  wrigglers  gliding  by, 

Where  the  creatures  nip  your  toes, 

And  your  back  is  full  of  woes,— 
A  farmer's  occupation  would  you  try? 

Would  you  like  to  be  a  farmer 
And  tread  a  water-wheel 

With  a  brain -destroy  ing  sun  upon  your  head; 
Would  you  walk  and  never  stop, 
Though  you  never  reached  the  top, 

When  an  automatic  pump  would  do  instead? 


Would  you  like  to  be  a  farmer 
With  a  wooden  hoe  to  plow, 
And  dig  along  one  row  for  half  a  day, 

When  in  other  lands  they  ride, 

With  a  larger  wage  beside, — 
Would  you  like  to  try  that  hooked -up  Ratchet  way? 

Would  you  like  to  be  a  farmer 

With  a  hay -stack  on  your  back, 
With  naught  but  feet  projecting  from  the  grass, 

Would  you  carry  stuff  to  sell 

When  a  horse  would  do  as  well, 
Or  a  slowly  ambling,  antiquated  ass? 

Would  you  like  to  be  a  farmer 

Where  your  wife  pranced  forth  in 
And  you  showed  the  independence  of 

In  a  ballet -skirt  of  straw 

When  the  weather  's  somewhat  raw,— 
Would  you  like  to  be  a  farmer  in  Japan 


iY 


A-v 


**&. 


T? 


RIDING    IN    A   SAMPAN 

In  the  land  of  queer  things,  where  queer  things  you  vie.w, 
Where  queer  things  you. eat  and  queer  things  you  do,  - 
Queerer  than  all  other  queer  things  beside 
Are  the  very  outlandishly  queer  things  yDu  ride. 

You  may  ride  on  a  pack  horse,  your  feet  on  his  mane, 

And  drive  with  one  rope,  without  bit,  without  rein, 

Or  else  in  a  basket  which  swings  from  a  rod 

In  smallest  dimensions  you  pose  like  a  god  , 

Or  when  in  a  'ricksha  the  miracle  feel 

That  confident  infants  escape  from  your  wheel. 

But  better  than  these  things  to  try.  if  you  can, 

Is  a  few  hours'  ride  in  a  groaning  sampan. 


I 


A  lumbering,  flat-bottomed,  .low-roofed  scow, 
With  no  place  of  comfort  in  stern  or  in  bow, 
And  out  at  the  back  there  's  a  long  curving  tail 
Which  threshes  the  water  when  furled  is  the  sail. 
But  when  there  's  a  quite  imperceptible  breeze 
The  boatman  sits  down  as  he  smokes  at  his  ease 
First  hoisting  a  tattered,  beribboned  thing  gray, 
Which  wearily  droops  as  it  crawls  on  its  way. 

You  sit  on  the  floor,  as  there  's  no  better  seat. 

Indulging  with  cat  naps  your  alternate  feet, 

And.  fitting  your  head  'twixt  the  roof  and  the  rail. 

Admire  the  view  as  you  silently  sail, 

Yet  never  forgetting  a  most  wary  eye    . 

To  keep  on  black  crawlers  that  scamper  close  by. 

Unfolding  at  length,  you  emerge  from  your  hole, 

A  stepless  pier  climbing,  a  most  thankful' soul. 

Then  ride  on  your  pack  horse,  a  perch  insecure, 
And  curl  in  your  kago,  a  thing  to  endure, 
With  laughter  roll  after  your  swift  -  running  man. 
But  ever  eschew  your  second  sampan. 


33 


Bring  from  the  kiln  the  new  china.— 

Kutani,  old  Satsuma  rare, 
Ninsei.  Hirato,  Imari,— 

We  manufacture  it  there. 
Rub  down  the  glaze  on  the  grindstone. 

Smear  the  brown  age, —  it 's  no  sin, 
For  the  foreigner  bold  is  rolling  in  gold.— 

Let 's  take  the  foreigner  in ! 

Bring  to  me  quickly  my  gum-pot  • 

Glue  on  a  handle  or  two, 
Mark  a  few  cracks  with  gold  lacquer  - 

Any  old  junk  will  do. 
Fill  a  bronze  hole  with  a  nail-head 

And  paint  out  the  color  of  tin, 
'Less  they  feel  in  the  spout,  they  never  find  out, 

Let 's  take  the  foreigner  in ! 


m 


-r 

\ 


Cut  out  the  wood  block  for  the  printer 

And  follow  the  old  artist's  line, 
Soak  the  white  paper  in  tea  leaves 

And  eat  in  a  few  worm1  holes  fine, 
Paste  on  a  torn  ragged  backing, 

Put  on  a  huge  price,  and  don't  grin, 
For  the  foreigners  ride  with  a  dude  for  a  guide, 

Let  V  take  the  foreigner  in ! 

Run  for*  the  daimio's  weapons, 

Create  his  old  lacquer  tray, 
Hunt  up  impossible  tea -jars, 

Stained  carving  and  wine -cups  display  ; 
Roll  up  your  choice  old  collection 

In  patchy  brocade,  wearing  thin, 
For  the  foreigners  seek  a  touch  of  antique,— 

We  '11  take  the  'foreigner  in ! 


There  s  a  lively  little  beastie  found  in  all  Japan, 
As  loving  a  little  beastie  as  known  to  mind  of  man. 
No  matter  where  one  wanders,  to  north  or  south  or  west, 
This  devoted  little  beastie  comes  to  share  his  rest. 

He  's  a  jolly  little  beastie.  who  loves  to  romp  and  play 
Upon  resounding  ceilings  and  turn  night  into  day. 
He  and  all  his  cousins  pursue  a  noisy  game, 
Run  races  and,  jump  hurdles  and  tumble  o'er  the  same. 


Sometimes  they  fight  a  duel.     When  one  is  heard  to  fail, 
With  humping,  and  with  bumping  he  's  dragged  off  by  the  tail. 
At  times',  in  calmer  moments,  they  all  sit  down  and  sing 
With  cheerful  sqeals  in  tunes  unknown  to  other  living  thing! 

Should  one  suggest  a  little  feast  of  phosphorus  on  toast, 

The  people  shriek  in  horror,  for  never  have  they  dosed 

Those  guileless  little  beasties  that  bring  them  luck  and  wealth^ 

Nor  in  a  trap  with  fragrant  cheese  have  coaxed  them  all  by  stealth. 

Those  attentive  little  beasties,  the  friends  of  old  Daikok', 
That  gambol  o'er  his  rice -bags  and  think  it  all  a  joke, — 
Those  clever  little  beasties,  night  spirits  of  Japan, 
Collecting  from  the  larder  for  the  luck  they  bring  to  man. 


THE    LITTLE   GEISHA 

Wandering  out  o'  mornings, 

One  hears  the  dulcet  tones 
Of  samisens  and  quavers, 

Of  trilling  and  of  groans : 
And  through  the  latticed  doorways, 

With  eyes  applied  below, 
One  sees  the  busy  geisha^ 

Who  live  in  Geisha  Row. 

The -floor  is  strewn  with  obis, 

And  rouge  in  tiny  pots ; 
They  kneel  before  steel  mirrors 

And  dab  the  beauty-spots. 
Now  some  are  loudly  singing, 

Some  dance  with  rhythmic  beat. 
Those  naughty  little  geishas 

Who  live  in  Geisha  Street. 


Again,  when  day  is  older, 

While  still  the  sun  is  high, 
Bedecked  in  silks  and  tassels, 

They  come  a -riding  by, 
Their  eyes  with  mischief  gleaming, 

Lips  carmine,  brows  of  snow, 
Those  coquettish  little  geisha 

Who  live  in  Geisha  Row ! 

And  should  one  go  a -dining, 

With  chopsticks  on  fhe  floor. 
One  hears  a  teasing  laughter 

As  they  push  the  sliding  door. 
They  come,  those  fairy  beings, 

And  sway  on  gliding  feet ; 
Those  bewitching  little  geisha 

Who  live  in  Geisha  Street! 


THE    IMPERIAL    MAIL 

The  children  are  scattering  like  autumn's  dry  leaves, 
Aye,  turn  to  see  what  is  the  matter ! 

For  outrunners  two  with  wide  flapping  sleeves 
Are  preceding  a  galloping /clatter. 

Nearer  it  sweeps  with  a  furious  dash, 

The  chickens  distractedly  fly. 
"Clear  the  way!  "  -then  a  scarlet  flash, 

The  Imperial  mail  has  gone  by  ! 


If  all  your  doors  were  paper, 

And  all  your  windows  too, 
And  you  nearly'  froze  when  the  wind  arose, 

What  do  you  think  you'd  do? 

If  your  house  had  solid  shutters 

Which  were  put  up  in  the  rain. 
And  with  a  knot  hole's  spark  you  sat  in  the  dark. 

Do  you  think  you  would  complain  ? 

But  when  vicious  little  earthquakes 

Shake  you  to  and  fro, 
With  sulky  growl,  and  typhoons  howl, 

It 's  time  to  pack  and  go ! 


THE  KOROGI  SINGS,  FOR  THE  AUTUMN  HAS  COME 

The  sunset  of  summer  is  touching  the  hills, 
With  purple  and  gold  the  green  valley  it  fills; 
The  villagers  shout  as  they  gather  the  sheaves, 
Cool  showers  from  heaven  refresh  thirsty  leaves; 
Like  the  touch  of  the  master  on  soft-muted  string, 
Their  service  of  praise  the  wee  earth-people  bring; 
The  joy  of  their  humming  resounds  far  and  near. 
For  the  korogi  sings,  and  the  autumn  is  here. 

The  heat  and  the  toil  of  the  summer  are  past, 
The  Year  welcomes  homeward  her  children  at  last, 
And  the  winds  of  old  Winter  shall  lull  them  to  rest, 
While  the  Earth -Mother  pillows  their  heads  on  her  breast; 
•The  bell-cricket  tinkles,  the  frogs  join  the  song, 
,The  cattle  low  soft,  for  the  day  has  beeh  long, 
rThe  air  is  a-tremble  with  wee  voices  clear, 
Tor  the  korogi  sings,  ajid  the  autumn  is  here/ 

Rejoice,'; queenly  Earth,  in  your  royal  array! 

Rejoice, -.all  ye  birds,  as  ye  sing  far  away ! 

tYe  little  marsh  minstrels,  pour  forth  your  delight?' 

Earth  calls  you  to  join  in  her  chorus  to-night. 

O  lusty  red  Harvest-Moon !  lavish  your  beams 

Till  the  ripples  awaken  and  dance  on  the  streams. 

Then  sing,  men  and  maidens,  the  Year  calls  you  home- 

With  the  korogi  sing,  for  the  autumn  has  comei, 


^ 


N. 


•f-r. 


C 


THE  .t COQUETTE' 

Fair  Fuji  is  a  gay  coquette, 

Her  lover  Sun  is  in  the  sky. 
In  fleecy  dlouds  she  hides,  and  yet 

Peeps  coyly  forth  with  one  bright  eye ; 
Till,  having  wooed  her  long  in  vain, 

He  seeks  the  west  in  evening's  hush, 
The  heartless  one:  glides  forth  again 

And  becks  him  back  with  rosy  blush. 

Now  daily  grows  he  wan  and  pale. 

Yet  still  pursues  his  fruitless  quest, 
Till,  shyly  drawing  back  her  veil, 

She  sees  him  feebly  drop  to  rest. 
Then  smiling  through  the  wintry  night, 

E'en  while  the  other  sighs  forlorn, 
In  bridal  robes  of  snowy  white, 

She  waits  to  greet  him  in  the  morn. 


43 


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